The wind seemed very strong, but the waves hardly moved. She saw some birds in the water, which were, she thought, swimming at a great pace without any effort; then some beams passed with the same speed; then, as she looked more carefully, the waves of the sea seemed rushing past and breaking on the bows of the vessel. At last she found that it was the ship which, without sail or oar, or any visible power, was dashing through the water. She was awe-struck! Alone in the midst of the sea, with no sign of human power, the vessel was rushing through the water like some huge sea-monster! She made her way to the side, almost expecting to see great fins ploughing the water, or a myriad arms clutching it in swimming. But she could see nothing, and hear nothing. Silently, without a jar or shock of any kind, the vessel sped on its way through a desolate waste of waters. The silence and solitude terrified her, and she turned to call her companions. She wished to know if she were still in a land of dreams, and under the power of the drug. But the sun shone with burning heat, the spray of the water was cold, the air was fresh, and everything she touched and saw seemed real and true. No phantom sea or ocean, she thought, could look so strong and glaring. Suddenly the Egyptian leader stood by her side, and as she shrank from him, he said, “Fear not! I have sworn an oath that cannot be broken.” And when she looked in his eyes, her courage was restored, and she said, “Tell me whither we are going, and how it is that the vessel moves without sail or oars. To me it seems like wicked magic.” “We are going,” he replied, “to a country in which, if thou wilt, thou shalt be a great queen; and there is no magic, but simply human skill which moves the ship, though it would be tedious to explain the matter more fully.” Then Daphne mused for a time on the strangeness of her situation, and at length, after gazing fixedly at the Egyptian, she said, “Grant me one more promise.” And he said, “If it is possible, I will grant it.” “Already when we were still at Athens,” she said, “I noticed thou toldest the other maidens things that thou knewest to be false, taking advantage of their ignorance. Now I am altogether in thy power and at thy mercy, and I am prepared for my fate, having escaped a horrible death through thy aid. But my request is this: whatever thou sayest to me, let it be truth—do not play with me at least, with idle tales.” The Egyptian seemed to reflect for a long time, and his look became gloomy. Then he said: “Already I have promised thee more than I intended, and the truth is too hard for thee to hear, or even to understand, for the present.”